the girl?” He taps his pencil against the side of his head as if thinking hard. “Gee, what do you think I should do?”
His face twists into a parody of confusion. I can’t help but smile. But I want to be certain. These feelings…the way he makes me feel is totally different than the way Jordan does and I have no idea if any of them are real or not. Can I trust them? They’re too new, too fragile for me to risk it. “You don’t even know me.”
“Duh. That’s the idea.” He scrapes his chair closer to me. “If you’re worried about your mom, don’t. She doesn’t scare me.”
He’s about the only person. Mom pretty much intimidates everyone—even my doctors.
Then Tony looks at me, the full weight of his focus on me. I can’t remember anyone ever looking at me like that before—not like I’m a problem patient or a diagnostic dilemma or a freak. More like I’m the only thing in the whole wide world. My heart does a little jig and I take a deep breath to settle it down.
Then his smile wilts. “Unless—do you mind working with me?”
I tilt my head and tap my own temple, scan the ceiling as if looking for heavenly guidance. “Gee, a chance to work with a smart guy who doesn’t mind being seen with a girl who has to lug around her own life support equipment? What do you think?”
He blows out his breath in mock relief. “Great. Now that we have the formalities out of the way, let’s talk cardiac ion channels and genetic mutations.”
28
Spanish is over much too fast. Tony says good-bye; I grab my stuff from my locker and meet my mom at her car. Jordan was nowhere to be seen around our locker, but after spending so much of the day with Tony, in a weird way, I’m kind of relieved.
Mom spends the short drive home fuming about Celina not showing up this morning. “After all I try to do for that girl. I can’t believe how disrespectful she is.”
“Nessa says her mom’s really sick. Maybe that’s why she didn’t make her meeting with you.” I’m trying to stand up for Celina without making Mom think I’ve taken sides. Juggling friends and parents, I’m discovering, is a tricky thing.
Mom shakes her head in disappointment. “I know she’s in peer support with you, but if I were you, Scarlet, I’d steer clear of that girl. She’s trouble.”
No way am I going to abandon a friend—not when I can count them all on the fingers of one hand. I’m silent. Mom’s in no mood to discuss the matter more, but I vow to find some way to help Celina.
“Could you download my medical records onto the home computer so I can use them for our science project?” I ask as we pull into our driveway, hoping that talking medical stuff will brighten Mom’s mood.
Dad’s Subaru isn’t there—he’s usually only home Friday nights during the week, but sometimes he surprises us and comes home sooner. I should be used to it, but still it always makes me lonely when I see the empty spot on the driveway. Mom parks her Explorer in the garage and doesn’t answer me until we’re inside the kitchen.
“What science project?” She’s twisting her keys on the metal ring that holds them. Among them is the flash drive shaped like a caduceus that has all my medical files stored on it. Just In Case.
“The one Tony and I told you about last night. Ms. Blakely wants us to do complete medical family histories and then research any genetic predispositions.”
Usually she loves talking about my Long QT. She wants my dad to get tested to see if it came from his side of the family, but Dad’s afraid of needles and hasn’t gone yet. It’s not like it changes my situation. She’s always telling everyone who’d listen how it’s such a relief to finally know what’s wrong with me and how it’s amazing that such a tiny thing, a tiny misspelling of the DNA on chromosome 11, could potentially kill me.
Tonight she surprises me. Says nothing, merely hangs her coat up and sets her key ring with the flash drive
His face twists into a parody of confusion. I can’t help but smile. But I want to be certain. These feelings…the way he makes me feel is totally different than the way Jordan does and I have no idea if any of them are real or not. Can I trust them? They’re too new, too fragile for me to risk it. “You don’t even know me.”
“Duh. That’s the idea.” He scrapes his chair closer to me. “If you’re worried about your mom, don’t. She doesn’t scare me.”
He’s about the only person. Mom pretty much intimidates everyone—even my doctors.
Then Tony looks at me, the full weight of his focus on me. I can’t remember anyone ever looking at me like that before—not like I’m a problem patient or a diagnostic dilemma or a freak. More like I’m the only thing in the whole wide world. My heart does a little jig and I take a deep breath to settle it down.
Then his smile wilts. “Unless—do you mind working with me?”
I tilt my head and tap my own temple, scan the ceiling as if looking for heavenly guidance. “Gee, a chance to work with a smart guy who doesn’t mind being seen with a girl who has to lug around her own life support equipment? What do you think?”
He blows out his breath in mock relief. “Great. Now that we have the formalities out of the way, let’s talk cardiac ion channels and genetic mutations.”
28
Spanish is over much too fast. Tony says good-bye; I grab my stuff from my locker and meet my mom at her car. Jordan was nowhere to be seen around our locker, but after spending so much of the day with Tony, in a weird way, I’m kind of relieved.
Mom spends the short drive home fuming about Celina not showing up this morning. “After all I try to do for that girl. I can’t believe how disrespectful she is.”
“Nessa says her mom’s really sick. Maybe that’s why she didn’t make her meeting with you.” I’m trying to stand up for Celina without making Mom think I’ve taken sides. Juggling friends and parents, I’m discovering, is a tricky thing.
Mom shakes her head in disappointment. “I know she’s in peer support with you, but if I were you, Scarlet, I’d steer clear of that girl. She’s trouble.”
No way am I going to abandon a friend—not when I can count them all on the fingers of one hand. I’m silent. Mom’s in no mood to discuss the matter more, but I vow to find some way to help Celina.
“Could you download my medical records onto the home computer so I can use them for our science project?” I ask as we pull into our driveway, hoping that talking medical stuff will brighten Mom’s mood.
Dad’s Subaru isn’t there—he’s usually only home Friday nights during the week, but sometimes he surprises us and comes home sooner. I should be used to it, but still it always makes me lonely when I see the empty spot on the driveway. Mom parks her Explorer in the garage and doesn’t answer me until we’re inside the kitchen.
“What science project?” She’s twisting her keys on the metal ring that holds them. Among them is the flash drive shaped like a caduceus that has all my medical files stored on it. Just In Case.
“The one Tony and I told you about last night. Ms. Blakely wants us to do complete medical family histories and then research any genetic predispositions.”
Usually she loves talking about my Long QT. She wants my dad to get tested to see if it came from his side of the family, but Dad’s afraid of needles and hasn’t gone yet. It’s not like it changes my situation. She’s always telling everyone who’d listen how it’s such a relief to finally know what’s wrong with me and how it’s amazing that such a tiny thing, a tiny misspelling of the DNA on chromosome 11, could potentially kill me.
Tonight she surprises me. Says nothing, merely hangs her coat up and sets her key ring with the flash drive
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